T/W: Gore, Foul Language
"This entire dungeon is a living forest - can we even escape them since they can chase us at ridiculous speeds?" Penn probed. Nathan remained silent, panting from the continuous swing of his sword and carrying Penn at full speed. Penn looked down, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from Nathan's brow. Nathan grunted, shifting the weight as he attempted to pick up speed.
Nathan skidded to a sudden halt, releasing a large and frustrated sigh. Penn looked behind him, realizing they skidded to the edge of a thick jungled cliff. Even standing on the cusp of a steep ledge, no breeze was still felt. The air was stale, almost moribund.
Penn let out a shaky laugh, nervous for the first time in a long time. He scanned around at the still trees that stood behind them. Were all trees alive? Or were certain conditions they needed to meet for them to become living, breathing monsters?
